Captivity
by Answer
Summary: Belle says "I love you." Nothing happens. A look at the darker side of Beauty and the Beast. One-shot.


Belle had had dreams once. She had had her father, her freedom, a future. She knew now that not everyone could be as lucky.

They'd come to save her now. Of course they had, she thought, bitterly, walking slowly across the bridge, her cloak pulled by the icy wind, tugging her back towards the castle.

If only.

She'd been angry at first. She remembered hurling herself on the bed, inconsolable. She had felt so alone, trapped, desolate. She had wondered how anyone could do something like this, how he could tear her away from her life, keep her here, miserable. She had hated him from the other side of the door, reacted with disgust when he asked her to dinner.

"_I don't want to get to know him," _she had cried_. "I don't want anything to do with him!"_

"Belle! Oh, Belle, thank goodness, I thought I'd never see you again. We came to free you, I was so worried... But, the Beast, how did you escape?"

An overwhelming weariness. "I didn't escape, Papa. He sent me away."

She remembered trying to escape. She remembered fear, panic, urgency, but she couldn't remember why. Not now, when she'd give anything to be allowed to stay. She had got to know him. She wanted everything to do with him.

The crowd had come for a fight, not a rescue. Gaston acknowledged her presence with only a cold blue stare. He hadn't come for her, not really. He'd come for the chase.

"Take whatever booty you can find but remember, the Beast is mine!"

"Don't!" she screamed, her voice too weak. "Don't hurt him! You don't understand!"

She knew now why he'd done it. He had needed her here because... because he was lonely. She'd thought she knew what that meant in the village, wandering alone through crowds, glancing up now and then from her book to encounter derisory stares. But it was worse for him. Of course it was. You only had to look at him.

And yet, she'd grown used to it. It wasn't that bad. He wasn't ugly. Not really. He wasn't _human_, not to look at, but underneath...

He needed her. She could sense it. There was a desperation about him, a panicked intensity in those blue eyes. He wasn't a bad person, whatever they said. Circumstances like his would have changed anyone. And who was she, who were they to say who was right and wrong? What right did she have to freedom when others were denied it? If her presence made things even a little better for him then she was glad to be there.

Had been glad to be there.

She hadn't been his prisoner, not really. He'd made the bargain with her out of fear and anger and desperation. But he had never been cruel to her, never even tried to harm her. He would never have done anything like that.

He'd given her a library. It was the most wonderful present she had ever received. All those rows and rows of stories, piled up to an artificial sky. He had wanted her to be happy there, with him.

And look how he was being punished.

"It's alright Belle. You're safe now. Gaston is the best hunter there is. He'll take care of this Beast and then we'll all be safe. You can come home."

But she'd been safe with him. He'd taken care of her, seen that her every need was met. She only wished she could have done the same for him.

She could hear their last conversation in her head, even as the battle raged before them. She thought she could make out a howl of pain and cringed into her father's arms, trying her best to block it out.

"_Belle," he had said. "Are you happy here with me?"_

_She hadn't had to think about it. "Yes, of course." A moment of hesitation, then decision. Something had told her it was what he wanted to hear, and she knew it was what she wanted to say. "I love you."_

_A moment of shocked silence, then a light in his eyes that shone so brightly it was like staring at the sun's reflection in clear blue pools. "I love you too!"_

_She had gone to embrace him then but he'd stood up and moved away, a look of anticipation on his face. It had turned to disappointment, then anger._

"_You lied to me."_

_She had got up, taken hurried steps to his side. He pushed her roughly away._

"_I would never lie to you," she had said, quietly._

"_Get out," he snarled._

_She tried to take his paw. "What is it? Can I help? Please..."_

_He glared down at her. "What help can you be?"_

"_I don't know, but..."_

"_I'll tell you once more." He put his face level with hers, inches away baring his teeth. Then he roared: "GET OUT!"_

"_I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."_

_He extended his claws, eyes flashing. "I'm going to warn you once more. Get out of my sight. NOW!"_

Maurice gently pushed tear-sodden hair from her face."Belle?"

"You shouldn't have come, Papa."

A sudden noise from the roof caught their attention. Gaston had cornered his prey. They faced one another, evenly-matched, dagger to claw, but the Beast was tiring faster.

"NO!" Belle heard the scream before she knew it had come from her. "Gaston, don't!"

But he did. Claws scraped against slate and then the Beast was a falling shape, silhouetted for a moment against the twilight sky.

* * *

><p>They didn't know what to do with the body. Gaston said they ought to leave it there to rot, let its tormented soul haunt the forest for all eternity, and that's what they would have done if it hadn't been for Belle. Shaking, bruised, she'd begged them to bury it in the churchyard. They told her they couldn't. Of course they couldn't bury a monster next to a church, beside the graves of those they loved.<p>

"He's not a monster!" she had screamed, tears carving out riverbeds in the mixture of blood and dirt that covered her cheeks. "You are! All of you! You killed him!And if anyone doesn't deserve to be buried on holy ground it's_ each and every one of you!_"

The piteous screech echoed around the now-still village, breaking their guilty hearts. They had done this to her, somehow. They might all have been a little kinder to her, before she disappeared. They had turned their backs on her, dismissed her as strange, peculiar. No wonder she'd seen kindness where there wasn't any.

In the end, they burnt it. Gaston took a team of men out into the forest and they gathered all the dry wood that could be found and built it into a pyre. After a couple of false starts the flame took, spreading until it engulfed the creature, cleansing the world of a horror it didn't deserve.

Belle screamed until her throat felt like it was bleeding and the ash was carried off on the wind and the creature's soul was in hell. They watched her collapse, ruined, to the ground, and then looked away, each trying to avoid a single thought.

She had had dreams, once.

* * *

><p><em>This came out of a really interesting discussion about darker themes in fanfic over on the Bittersweet and Strange forum, so I absolutely must credit SamoaPhoenix9 and TrudiRose for the ideas of theirs that I've incorporated here.<em>

_I'm not entirely pleased with this, but that's because I know that there's so much more that could have been done with this idea. We were all saying how much we'd love to read a full-length fic in which Belle's feelings for the Beast are revealed as Stockholm Syndrome, while his for her are manufactured out of desperation for the curse to be broken. If no one's done that when I finish Relapse, maybe I'll have a crack at it myself. But for now, I just wanted to do this to get the idea out of my system for a little while._

_I'll be absolutely fascinated to hear your thoughts, and I'd definitely recommend checking out or joining the discussion over at B&S._


End file.
